Picky Pickle Pickers: A review of fried pickles from three local KC restaurants

Two years ago, at The Hub located in Seaside, FL, I discovered one food item while eating with my friends for lunch so mouth-watering that it became its own food group in my life — fried pickles. Countless crispy appetizers later, I’ve become a self-proclaimed fried pickle connoisseur. 

Whenever I daydream about those quarter-sized, fried emerald green jewels, I can practically taste the crunch factor and all-consuming wave of dill juice. So since then, I’ve been hunting for the ideal fried pickle, and I may have just found it.

Johnny’s Tavern: $9.49, 2.5/5

From their loaded chicken espinaca nachos to their flaming buffalo wings, the cuisine at Johnny’s in Corinth Square never disappoints. So with such high regard for their food, I expected their fried pickles to pack some serious dill. 

In my world, the ultimate fried pickle consists of a 50:50 ratio of crunch to softness and a balance of the salty and vinegar pickle punch — without making my face squinch. Unfortunately, these $9.49 fried pickle chips didn’t sizzle up to my standards. After every bite, I grasped for my water cup, overwhelmed by an intense zingy flavor. These pickles leaned a smidge too far on the greasy side, dropping a heavy weight on my stomach.

Although the sour scale was too high, the crunchy texture and side of creamy house-made ranch boosted the pickle. Despite being greasy, they weren’t soggy by any means, and each bite brought somewhat of a crunch followed by a softer, dill-pickle bite. 

They were relatively good pickles — nothing to scream about but nothing to gag over either. And of course, their house-made ranch was practically a chef’s kiss — just remember to keep your water nearby.

Meat Mitch: $9, 3/5

My next stop was Meat Mitch located in Ranch Mart, a restaurant I’d never tried, so I didn’t know what pickle quality to expect. But despite being only a year-old restaurant, their classic fried pickle chips tasted like they’d been curated for years. 

These fried pickles were nowhere near the soggy texture of the mushy brown sugar oatmeal you’d eat for breakfast, which was just what I wanted. As they were extra crispy, I expected to drown in fried oil but was surprised to find quite the opposite. Compared to the overpowering Johnny’s deep-fried pickles, this subtle-but-savory snack was a total taste palette switch-up.

Still, there were some downfalls — with way less tang comes a lack of overall flavor and the appropriate amount of gushing dill juice. I guess it’s hard to win it all in the fried pickle world.

Not to mention I wasn’t a fan of the buttermilk ranch on the side, a bland sauce that didn’t exactly scream “drench your pickles in me.” 

Although my mouth didn’t water at the thought of another bite, these fried green goodies neared the high end of my fried pickle standards.

Conroy’s: $11, 5/5

I thought I’d have enough pickles to fill the jar that was my stomach, but this last stop left me craving more of the dill crunch for days. Conroy’s Public House, a pub and restaurant located at 95th and Nall and home to the world’s best fried pickle, as proclaimed by me. Glancing at the menu price of $11 — a higher price point from the others —I sucked in a breath. Was I about to taste the one? And boy were my hopes fulfilled. 

The moment these fried pickles fell from heaven onto my table, I knew they would be different. The giveaway was their shape — they were spears instead of a classic rounded chip. One bite in and I was hooked. These slices took crunchiness to a whole new level, contrasting masterfully with a cloud-soft pickle texture and biting dill tang. There were practically no deep-fry oils saturating my fingers or swimming in my stomach.

The pickles themselves weren’t so dense like Johnny’s pickles — allowing me to thoroughly enjoy the appetizer instead of working through excessive grease. I almost wanted to drink the buttermilk side of ranch, but unlike Johnny’s it didn’t distract from the fried pickles. I’d happily enjoy them with or without the condiment. 

These pickles successfully reached my golden ratio of texture and taste. Conroy’s doesn’t need to worry about paying for advertisements — I’m now a walking billboard who can’t stop boasting about this new pickled treasure.